The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

I have had this Robert Frost poem mostly memorized since I was a child-- not because someone made me learn it, but because I have always been stunned by it's beautiful imagery. Today, after a commute-long rant, I realized that this poem is rather fitting to my current mindset.

When I entered my post-bach program two years ago, I was faced with three choices-- English, science, or math. It scared me, because I knew I would likely be limiting myself to a single subject for the better part of my adult life. I chose math for a couple of reasons. Part of it was the challenge, part of it was the favorable job market (particularly when compared to English), but most of it was for one simple reason. I hated math. It made me feel like a complete idiot. Despite my intelligence, I dreaded math class, and I will never forget how I felt after the unit circle test in Honors Algebra 2 that I utterly failed.

I know how rough it can be and how easy it is for kids to get discouraged. And once I got to calculus, I realized how needless all that suffering had been. So, I vowed to make it right, or some other noble shit like that.

Fast forward two years and I am seriously questioning that decision. Why am I teaching my freshmen fractions? Better yet, why am I rushing through fractions when my students clearly do not understand them? They have been taught this five times by as many teachers and their brains are so packed with all the rules and tricks-- the do's, don't's, and sayings that we use to get them through state testing-- that there is no room left for real thought. My content meeting today just reinforced my frustration. After they tore apart my curriculum (I am the only one who teaches my subject so I decided to teach the book out of order. Frankly, I think it is stupid to solve algebraic equations and inequalities before you add and subtract integers, but maybe that's just me.) they told me to bring up the Pythagorean theorem at least once a month since it is on the state test. They also gave me a grading rubric for my double-dip students that essential awards an A to the students who complete repetitive problems online the fastest. Oh, and it was all accompanied by the constant, "they'll never remember any of this anyways because they are slow, and they just don't care".

Do they ever think that the reason these kids can't remember these meaningless math tidbits is that they never learned them properly in the first place? Does anyone out there in Math-Curriculum-Land realize that teaching "a mile wide and an inch deep" is failing our students?

On top of it all, it's homecoming week. The students at my school still engage in barbaric hazing traditions like paddling and Saran wrapping students to trees. One of the students I mentor was chased by a car full of upper classmen wielding paddles on his way home from school. Luckily he got to his brother's house before they caught him. When I talked to my freshmen about this, they just told me about the paddles they plan to make for next year. Their excuse? That's just how it is.

I am tired of accepting things for just how they are. I refuse to be a complacent supporter of a broken system. I am not Pangloss. I do not believe this is the best of all possible worlds. I am his critic, and it is my job to shout at the top of my lungs, "WE CAN DO BETTER!"

I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence. Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less travelled by.



And that has made all the difference.

Web 2.What?

I am integrating iPads into my classroom this year (something that has been woefully under represented in this space). I like my district, I love my superintendent, my students are awesome, and all around, I couldn't be happier with my job.

But, whoa, talk about a digital native entering the world of the digital immigrants!

My school is relatively well off when it comes to technology (it is on a reservation, so tech is relative). With a new federal grant, the district has really been focusing on providing the tools necessary for 20th century learners. Honestly, I am in awe with the sheer cost of the technology in my classroom (and as a result, I obsessively lock my door 337 times a day!).

With so much technology, I sort of assumed everyone would be using it to it's fullest potential. We have great inservice and a dedicated technology coordinator, so why not? Yeah, I forgot that I teach in Middle-of-Nowhere, Wisconsin. In iPad training, the tech coordinator described "web 2.0," and as he spoke, all I could think was that he was describing my everyday life. And several of the other teachers looked stunned or confused.

Anyways, I was reminded of this today when my superintendent stopped by for an impromptu observation (I only peed a little). I was reviewing adding and subtracting fractions with unlike denominators with one of my algebra classes. I am trying to get them used to the iPads (how to navigate without bumping 36 things you didn't mean to, following instructions, that sort of boring thing), so I had them practice by playing Tic Tac Fraction against one another. I don't intend to use the iPads for this kind of drill and kill all year, but it is a good "kill two birds with one stone" moment.

In his evaluation of my class, my superintendent commented that it was great to see the iPads in the hands of students and used in a way to keep them engaged and interested. All they were doing was mindlessly practicing arithmetic problems.

I get what he is saying, but none of these people recognize the power of the technology they have at their disposal.

It is both a wonderful and terrifying thing to be a digital native adrift in a land of digital immigrants.

What is math?

Well, the first week of being a real teacher is over. I have not yet run screaming, so I would consider it a success.

The first day of school was a kickoff event meant to help the students develop a connection to the school. It started off with a veterans ceremony, which involved smudging (purifying through the burning of sage and sweet grass), a drum circle, and speeches made by veterans in the tribe. As I listened to the student drum circle, all I could think was, "Is this really my life?". Yes. It is.

Anyways, that's not the point of this post. The point is an activity I did on the second day of classes. I had students take different colored post it notes and write about math on them. Pink post it's were for the first word that came to mind when you heard the word math. Blue was for your definition of math. Green was for the reason you think math is important. At the end of the day, I ended up with this:

Post it Wonderfulness

It made me happy to have a bulletin board that the students created (thank you, Paul Salomon!).  What I found least surprising, was the student responses to "Why is math important?"  It was like I could hear the ghosts of math teachers past echoing through those Post is notes.

Nearly every student either wrote, "you use it everyday" or "math is everywhere" on their green post it.  (Okay, one kid wrote "chocolate," but she also wrote "pickles" on the pink one, so I think she may have just been hungry.)

Math is yummy!

However, when I asked students how math came up in their everyday lives, there were the canned answers of "money", "time" and "building stuff", but beyond that, they weren't really sure.

I took away two things from this activity.  1. My students will blindly trust and regurgitate anything I tell them (after all, I am their math teacher).  2. They really have no clue what "math" is.

And I really don't know what to do with that...

Everything I Learned About Teaching, I Learned From Harry Potter

Or, alternately, "Everything I Learned NOT to Do, I Learned From Dolores Umbridge"

The she-witch herself

I have been trying to put together a post on implementing iPads in my classroom, or the perils of being a new teacher, or first day jitters, or adopting the Quality Core curriculum, or something generally useful... but nothing has come together.

In addition, I have a long commute and I tend to listen to audio books while I drive.

The result is an analysis of the teaching lessons I have learned from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  (If you haven't at least seen the movie, you might want to stop reading, or this is going to sound very crazy.)

There is a point in the story where Dolores Umbridge, the evil government implant at Hogwarts, says, "The Ministry has decided that a theoretical knowledge of defense against the dark arts will be sufficient to prepare you for your examinations.". At this point, I usually make some anger- induced growly noise.

This sentence embodies many of the things that are broken in education.  First of all, the Ministry of Magic is imposing heavily on education- deciding what is and isn't sufficient without entering into any kind of dialogue with teachers.  Bad idea.

Second, Umbridge is focusing on some end of term, standardized test.  Teaching to the test never fosters real, valuable learning.  Silly Dolores.

Third, Umbridge does not allow for any discourse with her students.  She just shuts them down with decrees and utterly dismisses their concerns.

Lastly, "a THEORETICAL knowledge of DEFENSE"!!!!!!!!!!  Clearly, being able to defend oneself against attack is a practical skill.  How on earth can these students be prepared for the real world if all they get is theory!?!  This is a huge issue, in my opinion, with many math text books-- no application.

Ugh.

In one sentence, Dolores Umbridge has illustrated major no-no's in education, but she is not even close to done.  What else, you ask?  Let me tell you!

1.  Umbridge has a terrible attitude.  She's not a team player.  Rather than collaborate, she alienates her fellow educators by questioning their abilities.  Not a good way to get anything accomplished.

2.  She has no background in education, yet she insists on writing ed policy.  Yeah, that always works great.

3.  She has horrible rapport with the students.  Not only does she engage in corporal punishment, she degrades students and actively seeks to turn them against one another (hello, Inquisitorial Squad?).  In addition, she doesn't have a genuine bone in her body, as evident in everything from her disturbing Hoarders-esque collection of kitty plates to that soul searing giggle.  Who allowed this woman to interact with children?!?  (Oh yeah, the government.)

4.  Umbridge believes that learning is accomplished through silent copying and recopying of sections from the text book.  *Shudder*

5.  Like some kind of anal retentive nut bag, she must destroy what she cannot control.  This means banning any socializing or extra curriculars.  High school isn't just about preparing for some standardized test through a state mandated curriculum.  It's also about learning to be social and forming an identity.

Luckily, in the end, Dolores is attacked by centaurs and carried away by a giant.  If only the real world of education had such happy endings!